Disclaimer: I think the only thing I don't own in this chapter is mention of Daniel Radcliffe. Everyone else is my own invention, but the ones I'm really proud of you'll meet later.
Introduction: What TAAMS (one of my other fics) is to Mary Sues, this fic is to Crossovers. Enjoi! Questions can be left in the review section, where I will do my best to address them in following chapters.
In addition, this story is to be co-authored with Drew Marigold, but not until the next chapter.
And now, without further delay:
Total Apocalypse
This adventure begins in a second-story house in the suburbs, in the room at the end of a hall. The sound of feverishly-tapping keys and the faint giggling of a girl can be heard through the slightly-cracked door. Were the observer to press one eye to the crack, they would see a small, gangly teenager whose head appears too big for her body. Her name is Anna and at the moment she is entertaining no less than seven friends on instant messenger, browsing two fanclubs for Daniel Radcliffe, and attempting to complete a document in Word. Every half-second a little chime informed her that an IM friend had replied, and Anna would type in net-speak back to them using ten letters or less. One particular conversation went something like this:
cabannaluv2009: hy whit, zup?
pixiepottergurl: nm, u?
cabannaluv2009: fic, EoL
pixiepottergurl: nw! nxt ch 2nite?
cabannaluv2009: u updt yt?
pixiepottergurl: wich 1?
cabannaluv2009: potc/lotr x-ovr
pixiepottergurl: rit now! kewl, ne?
cabannaluv2009: ya! jen's updtd 2!
pixiepottergurl: sweet! zoe 2! i luv her hp n xmen n st x-ovr!
Needless to say, Anna and Whitney weren't going to win any Pulitzers with their spelling and grammar skills. As these two girls along with hundreds of others wrote new chapters to their stories and posted them on the Internet, and each went to bed with visions of Legolas, Harry Potter, Captain Jack Sparrow and Wolverine dancing through their heads, somewhere on a gigantic black computer screen two red words appeared: TOTAL APOCALYPSE.
-+-+
The alarm klaxon that went off was so loud and piercing that Lieutenant Michael Newton Venningsworth had bolted out of bed before all of his muscles had registered the fact that he was awake. Thus he ended up crumpled in a heap three feet from his military-issued cot in nothing but his Tootsie Roll boxers, which were not military-issue. The klaxon continued to blare through his skull, causing little white flashes of light to dance before his eyes as Mike tried to encourage his body to wake up. He panted in his efforts to get moving, his heart beating faster as he grabbed one-handedly for his uniform jacket.
Struggling upright, the lieutenant bolted for the door, his fingers fumbling with the knob before yanking the door open. His bare feet nearly froze to the cold metal floor but in his haste he didn't notice. He needed…blast, where was she?
"Tiff!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, racing in the direction of the control room. "Tiffany!"
His commander came bursting from her own quarters as he raised his fist to pound on her door in passing. "I hear you, Lieutenant," she said briskly, cinching the sash to her brightly-flowered silken robe around her waist. "Let's not panic."
Mike was dumbfounded. "But…this is it. This is the Klaxon. The Blood Red Klaxon of Doom, I believe is its full and proper name."
Tiffany Brie Walton took off at a dead run in the direction of the Core, her combat boots thudding loudly against the deck. "Wrong, Lieutenant. Its full name is the Blood Red Klaxon of Doom, Destruction, and Apocalypse, because it means all of those things. We are in very big trouble." With that, she leapt into the nearest 'lift and cried, "Core Level, emergency speed!"
Mike and Tiff were thrown to the floor of the small elevator as it accelerated upward at an unhealthy rate. A smooth feminine voice informed them of their arrival at the level they desired and they managed to peel themselves off of the floor and stagger into the main control center of the entire base, the bone-shattering klaxon still ringing through the air.
"Ensign," Commander Walton snapped to the young man on duty, "what in the name of St. Petersburg is happening?"
Obviously rattled, Hochi Taikei Min drew himself up and reported, "The only thing that could happen to set off that alarm, Commander. Total Apocalypse." He pointed to the words on the large screen that dominated the room.
"What caused it?" the commander demanded, striding to the ensign's station and looking over his shoulder as if searching for answers.
"I don't know ma'am—" Hochi said, but Mike interrupted him.
"Where's Zondo? He should be able to tell us everything! The guy knows all there is to know about this system. I'll go find him." Before Tiffany could say anything, the lieutenant had sprinted from the room.
Commander Walton paced in a small circle, muttering agitatedly to herself, her blonde hair hanging in limp straggles about her face. "Is there anyway to turn that dumb alarm off?" she said loudly to Hochi.
The officer held up his hands, palms up and shook his head. "Only Zondo knows."
Tiffany snarled something in a language that sounded suspiciously like Klingon and pounded one fist against a wall. "Get me readings on the most highly-trafficked worlds, weather reports, I don't care! We need something to go off of, some explanation for this. I don't completely trust Zondo."
An abrupt clattering out in the hallway preceded Mike's hauling of Zondo in by the collar. Zondo was a short, weasel-like man with cunning eyes and a long nose to complete the image. "Why Commander," he greeted. "Don't you ever take your boots off? And I didn't even know you knew what flowers were," he went on, oblivious to the poisonous look she was directing at him.
"We can discuss my choice of fashion later. Now, how do we turn this stupid alarm off?"
Zondo strolled calmly over to a nearby console and casually pressed a few buttons. The alarm abruptly ceased mid-shriek, and the three officers visibly relaxed. "Was that all?"
"No, it certainly is not," Mike said. "What happened?"
The small man shrugged. "Oh, the only thing that would make it go off, I expect. Complete and utter dissolution of the barriers between worlds."
Tiffany, Mike, and Hochi all blinked at him in mute shock.
"But—"
"You can't mean—"
Zondo depressed a switch and a new image replaced the red words on the screen. Meandering over to it, he took out a pointer and began his narrative. "As I have always suspected, the fanfiction universe is finite up to a point. You can only stretch it so much and load it with so much stuff before we encounter problems. Normally we have only had continuum crashes, particularly in the Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings sections. But this latest dose of crossover nonsense, coupled with the ever-increasing flow of self-insertions has apparently done the system in. Quite seriously, we do face total apocalypse."
"Right, sure, I got all that," Tiffany muttered, rubbing her temples gingerly before raking her hair out of her vision. "So you're saying this can't be fixed according to the rulebook?"
Zondo carefully folded up his pointer and pocketed it. "My dear, your rulebook ceased to exist when that klaxon went off."
Hochi and Mike exchanged apprehensive glances. "So then…what can we do?" Mike asked slowly, voicing everyone's thoughts.
From his back pocket Zondo produced a small, vomit-green pamphlet with a flourish. "We follow my Never-To-Be-Used-Except-In-Total-Apocalypse Rulebook."
In the silence that followed Tiffany prompted, "Which says…?"
"We bring in the fans."